Sugar, You're Going Down
by DancingReader15
Summary: Percy Jackson has always been a smart one. Hard-working, dependable, and extremely determined. He's on top of the world. Well, that is until a certain blond wearing more leather than skin takes his world and spins it around. Has Percy finally met his match? Cover art by the wonderful Viria
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: all characters belong to Mr. Rick Riordan, plot line is ours **

Chapter 1

Percy

I stare down at the paper. The emotional part of me feels like throwing a temper tantrum, flailing limbs and all, while the logical part of me is also freaking out and about ready to scream. Suddenly, the thoughts in my head just stop. And I almost laugh out loud. I mean there has to be some kind of mistake. Second in the class? Ha. No.

I take a couple of deep breaths and plaster on a smile. Mistake. Once they see it, they'll laugh too, apologizing profusely. I raise my hand, patiently waiting for my oblivious teacher to notice. He finally looks up and nods at me, looking a little annoyed. He blinks slowly, waiting for me to talk.

"I need to go see a counselor," I say, my voice ringing out loudly the silent classroom. He then proceeds to roll his eyes. He nods as if explaining something to a very young child. I stand up and walk to the door. Once I get out into the hall, I practically run, slowing down when I pass teachers, then picking up my pace again.

I burst through the counseling center's doors, scaring the receptionist. Once she recognizes me, she smiles widely. "Hi, Percy! How can I help you?" she asks. I try to think of a way to tell her that there's no possible way for me to be second in the class without sounding like a douche. My goal isn't to be pretentious, just to clear this mistake up.

"Can I see Mr. D?" I ask, my voice coming out breathy. I don't think I've ever run that fast before. It's definitely taking it's toll.

She nods enthusiastically and points to his closed door. I rush over and open it, I don't have a chance to say anything before I hear, "There's this thing called knocking. You should try it before barging into my office." Mr. D's bored drawl causes me to close the door, (rolling my eyes in the process) knock, then wait for him to grant permission.

He waits about 30 seconds before saying, "Come on in." I open the door calmly, knowing I won't get anywhere by being impatient because knowing Mr. D, he will draw out my torture as long as he can.

I step through the door, settling into one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk. His hands are folded in front of him, a bored look on his face.

"Peter Johnson, what can I do for you on this fine day," he says, his voice a flat monotone.

"Well there has to be some kind of mistake Mr. D, I just received this paper," I set the paper down on the desk, sliding it towards him. He barely glances at it.

"Yes, I see they got your name wrong. I'm so sorry, Mr. Jarrett," he says with a smirk.

I smile stiffly, determined not to let him get to me. "As I was saying, there must be a mistake. This paper says I'm second in the class." I end the sentence with another fake, plastic smile.

He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "I was wondering if you would be coming in here. I know it's hard for you to believe, but you are not, Mr. Jason, the most brilliant student in this school."

I sit there frozen for a while, the smile making my cheeks hurt. Then I let out a pathetic laugh. "Could you just check?" I ask, setting my hands in my lap.

He shakes his head, as if it were the most ridiculous request on earth. "Mr. Jeffrey, I assure you there is no mista-"

"Please. Just check. I need to see for myself." My voice cracks in the most embarrassing way and I cough, clearing my throat. "Please," I repeat.

He stares at me for a second, then sighs as he starts to type dramatically on his computer. He presses each key agonizingly slow. I suppress a groan and he continues to type at the speed of a third grader.

My lips are pressing together so much, I can feel the blood flow being stopped. My hands are wringing themselves out like wet clothes, so much that my knuckles are turning a pale white. But yet, the slow typing continues. I wonder if I would get in trouble if I leaped over this desk and pushed him out of the window behind him. I space off, imagining his blood curdling scream, making me smile like a lunatic.

After what seems like ages, he finally looks up at me and starts to speak in his slow, drawling voice.

"Well, Mr. Jacobs, there is no mistake." He angles the computer screen towards me. I squint against the glare on the prehistoric screen. There it is. It's like one of the cowboy movies, when they glare at each other and the camera gets closer each time. If looks could kill, that little number would have murdered me in cold blood. It stares me down, making fun of me.

That's when the scary hysterical laughing escapes from my throat. I sit there for about a minute, laughing. Mr. D looks scared, reaching his hand towards the phone on the counter slowly. The laugh dies off into a cough and I can feel my eye twitching.

I take a deep breath and try to calm myself.

"May I ask who is first?" My voice comes out about an octave higher, as if someone kicked me right where it hurts. This hurts about as bad as that, probably worse. "

Well Mr Jericho. That would be classified information that I can't give out." He says it in a sorry tone, but his face mocks me, a smile curling on his lips. He reaches out for a cup on the edge of his desk, throwing his head back and taking a big drink. At first I think it's coffee, but then I smell coca-cola. Who the hell drinks Coke at 10 a.m?

"But, anything for you Peyton," he looks too smug as he shows me the class list. I force myself to stare at it, and at the name at the very top. Annabeth Chase. Who the hell is Annabeth Chase? "

She is a bright one, that Annabeth. Ms. Chase has caught the eye of many universities already, Mr. Jervis."

I'm shaking at this point, so I snatch the paper up, (you know, the one that ruined my life) push the chair back and storm out of the room.

An hour later, I've already asked what feels like half of the class where Annabeth Chase is. They take in my disheveled appearance, gaping. Percy Jackson is always under control. Except when someone takes his spot. My sweater must be wrinkled, my khakis dirty from running my hands down the thighs countless times.

They all point in the same direction, towards the courtyard. I push the doors open, the brisk New York air, slapping me in the face.

I'm not paying any attention to where I'm going, which explains why I ran into trash can that's been sitting outside the school the entire time I've been here.

When I see her, I just know. I see it in the arrogant way she sits backwards on the bench, a cigarette between her red lips. It's not lit, almost like it's there for show. I stare at her feet, taking in the spiky combat boots, up her slender legs, clad in tight leather, up to the ripped tank top, covered in an equally stud-infested jacket. Her curly, blond, hair is wild, blowing in the wind. Her calculating grey eyes lined in black. I wonder for a second if wearing that much leather can cut off a person's circulation. Does she slide off of slick surfaces?

Then her scary-ass eyes meet mine. She recognizes me. I see the spark as she smirks around the cigarette. Her hand lifts up and waves mockingly, the black and red nails contrasting against her pale skin.

Wait, what?

**A/N: Hey guys! New story! This is a collab with a really good friend of mine and I hope you guys like it! Please review and favorite, it means the world to us!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rick Riordan, story line is ours.**

Chapter 2

Percy

Even from the distance, I could see the bright red lipstick covering her lips. The same lips that smiled at me like the Chesire Cat. I stalk over, reaching into my pocket for the paper. Before I'm able to whip it out and start demanding an explanation, she sneers at me and rolls her eyes.

"What do you want, Jackson?" The cigarette tilts in her mouth as she says it.

Her voice drips with boredom and annoyance.

"Well I just was wondering how such a… delinquent could take my spot at the top of the class," I say, my lip curling up. At those words, she takes the unlit cigarette and shoves it into a box, slipping it into her backpack.

She snorts, "I don't see how such a priss could have kept it for so long."

I gasp and scowl at her. "This isn't right. What did you do to get this spot? Did you cheat? Oh, no. Maybe you slept with a teacher or something."

Annabeth glares at me and I suddenly remember that she could probably beat me up.

Scratch that, I know she can probably shove her foot so far down my throat that I wouldn't be able to talk for a week. She stands up and I take a step back instinctively.

"No, no please don't hurt me!" I say covering my face. I do not have time for plastic surgery. I need to be first in the class. I'm too young to die.

I don't look up until I hear her laughing. The rest of her gang is also laughing. My cheeks are burning as I struggle to find some kind of defense, but honestly what can I do other than walk away in shame.

While I try to find an escape route, she grabs my sweater and I cringe back. Her lips come to stop right my ear as she whispers, "You're real cute, Jackson. Thanks for keeping that top spot warm for me."

I gape at her as she swaggers away and into the school building. I brush off my sweater, trying to rub out the wrinkles she caused. I try to scrape up whatever dignity I have left as I follow her into the building.

"You can't just walk away like that! We haven't settled this Chase!" My voice cracks in the most humiliating way as I plead to her.

"You seem a little delusional, Jackson, there's nothing to settle. It's pretty simple, I did better than you, get over it," she says over her shoulder.

Her curly hair bounces and I finally resort to my last option. "ANNABETH CHASE!" I scream through the crowded hallway.

She turns, wide-eyed at my outburst. At least I'm finally able to get a reaction out of her.

She stomps over to me, her fists clenched.

"Listen, Jackson. I have a lot riding on this spot. You better not mess it up, or I can _promise you_, you will regret it." Her voice sends shivers down my spine, but I grab her wrist to keep her from leaving.

"You don't think that spot is just as important to me? You have no idea how much work I've done to get there," I say angrily.

"You may think I just breezed past you, or as you so delicately put it, slept my way past you, I work just as hard or harder to be where I am at. I have always been second in the class, you were just too dense and self-centered to notice it," she says, her voice raising, along with the eyebrows of the students around us.

I gape at her, not sure what to say next.

I see tears at the edges of her eyes and I instantly feel terrible. She closes the grey orbs and takes a moment before snatching her hand away. "That's what I thought, Percy."

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry we haven't updated this in like two months, but since this is a partnership, it's hard to find a time to update together. We really appreciated the reviews last time and we are so excited to keep this up. We will try to update tomorrow! Thanks a bunch guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rick Riordan. Story line was created by us.**

Chapter 3

Annabeth

I turn, frustrated, and stalk down the hallway. All of my classmates are gaping at the almost fight they witnessed. When I finally turn the corner, I wipe the tears starting to develop. I'm filled with frustration and anger as I dive into a bathroom. What give him the right to assume things about me. He knows nothing.

Standing in front of the mirrors, I lean on the sink, looking up at myself. My eyes are wide and dark grey, stormy. My eyeliner is smeared from rubbing away tears. I reach down to my backpack and take my small makeup bag out, digging through for the pencil. My hands shake as I apply it and I let out a frustrated groan.

The door bursts open behind me and I jump embarrassingly high. A girl with a dark braid falling over one shoulder comes in. Her purple shirt and plain jeans create a funny contrast against my all black ensemble. She pauses when she sees me, taking in my red eyes and messily done eyeliner.

Clearing her throat she says, "Are you ok?" If that question could sound awkward, that was it.

"Um yeah," I answer, in an equally awkward way.

She looks almost as uncomfortable as I'm feeling as she stands there, probably wondering what she should do next. "I know I don't really know you, but you can tell me if anything is going on," she says, breaking the silence.

I let out a bitter laugh, I can't remember the last time I told anyone what was on my mind.

"What the hell, I might as well tell you," I finally say.

"Are you familiar with Percy Jackson?" I ask. She nods, wrinkling her nose. I can't help smiling at her reaction. "He just decided he was more worthy of something than I was. He also insinuated that I might be sleeping with people to get what I want. So yeah, that's about it."

She stares at me a moment, and I realize I've made her even more uncomfortable. "Well then," she says. I snort and turn away. "No, no. Sorry that came out wrong. Percy seems put together most of the time, I can't believe he said those things to you," she exclaims.

"I guess he just can't handle the idea of someone doing better than he did," I say. It really is a surprise though, no one has ever seen Percy freak out like he did today. He normally struts around with his khakis, polos, sweater vests, slacks and _heaven forbid_, his loafers. The only thing that's messy about him is his dark hair, but even that seems almost styled.

"Well, he's a dork anyway. His opinion doesn't matter," says the stranger.

I nod and smirk before reaching a hand out. "I'm Annabeth. I feel like we need a little introduction seeing that I just spilled my guts out to you." _Or at least as close as I get to spilling my guts out. _

She laughs a little and takes my hand, "I'm Reyna. I hope you don't really let him get to you."

I act disinterested, chipping the polish off of my nails. "No, he's stuffy anyways. He needs to take the giant pole out of his ass."

She gives me a smirk and I turn back to the mirror in an attempt to finish applying my eyeliner. I end up poking my eye, making it water. She must notice my struggle because she steps forward and says, "Do you need some help with that?"

I hand it over silently and she leans forward to get a better look at my eye. I'm feeling a little bit like a character in a movie as she does it. I suppose we'll become best friends after this. She finishes with a smile, dropping the concentrated face all girls seem to make when applying cosmetics.

I take the pencil from her hand and plop it into the bag, grabbing my red lipstick, knowing I can manage to put it on. I twist it out and glide it over my lips, imagining it's Percy's blood.

Wait, no. That was really weird.

I shake my head a little and drop the lipstick into my bag. Thalia would be so proud.

"Well, thanks. That was a super touching moment," I say with a smile.

She laughs a little. "Yeah, I guess."

We both stand awkwardly for a moment, I wasn't exactly sure if I should leave or not. I eventually turn to the door and half-wave before pushing it open and walking down the hallway to my next class.

Percy didn't discourage me at all. Now I just want to kick his ass even more. I'll show him.

**A/N: Wow, aren't you proud of us for having our crap together and updating this quick? I know I am! Thanks for reading! We were super happy with the reviews, please keep leaving them! We have another fanfic for _The Selection_ series that you guys should check out! It's going to be so cool and so much fun to write. We only hope you have just as much fun reading it. **

**P.S. This chapter almost included human sacrifice. No joke. **

**P.S.S. I hope that comment didn't freak you out. It was for comical purposes. **


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